


don’t stop now (don’t try to hide it how)

by meremennen



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Groans Internally | What TF Am I Doing, Oral Sex, Smut, There’s Some Tiny Plot Too I Guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21961810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meremennen/pseuds/meremennen
Summary: No. They haven’t actually had sex yet in the biblical sense of the word. That’s one of their unspoken rules, technically. Not for lack of wanting, not on her side at least — she wouldn’t be opposed to capital S-E-X if he asked.Most def.Or,Clarke and Bellamy have some FUN
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 118
Collections: Bellarke smut





	don’t stop now (don’t try to hide it how)

**Author's Note:**

> ** **Title** \- from Disney’s _The Little Mermaid_

🎶

Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do

It’s possible she wants you, too

🎶

* * *

“Clarke.”

A beat.

“ _Clarke_.” Bellamy groans with a warning edge to his tone. “You’re so cruel to me.”

If she said she didn’t enjoy the situation, she’d be lying. 

Clarke Griffin may enjoy arguing with Bellamy Blake more than she is willing to admit to it, but she doesn’t deny this: She loves teasing him. She is not a liar. 

A temptress? Sure.

Her current cat and mouse game with Bellamy under her is a perfect example of that.

The whole ‘thing’ started innocently. 

Or, innocently enough, when she thought it would be amusing to watch his these days otherwise stern face heat up if she dropped a not so innocent, decidedly offhand comment about getting on her knees in front of him; alas, insinuating sucking his dick at an inopportune time and place.

Right? She can be fun.

She had thought she could wave it off as some silly joke ultimately, and explain she only said whatever she had said to shake him out of his sour mood even for a minute. In retrospect, offering to do things for him ( _to him_ ) when he is this tense? It shouldn’t have caught her by surprise that he took her at her word. 

Offering to get him the books he needs on her library card because his is always maxed out, or suggest to cook him dinner is one thing. (The first is welcomed with a grateful smile and sometimes with a half hug, which she loves; the latter with a questioning frown, which she’s learnt to wave off. No biggie.) 

However. 

Offering him a blow job in the middle of a public break down, and publicly — because he is due to deliver the second draft of his research paper in a matter of hours ‘when he should have taken this task more seriously and sooner’ and ‘on the verge of losing his mind if he cannot get his shit together’ — is an entirely other.

Just like she expected, the slight pink tint made an appearance on his cheekbones. She filed it away as a win.

But then he sighed deeply, licked his lips, all the while examining her as he cautiously said: “Wait. Did you mean it?” Rubbing a hand over his face.

It’s admittedly not what she expected.

Clarke could feel her own face heating up in surprise as she considered him. He was watching her intently which caused her to stop walking completely and look at him, like, really look at him. 

He was utterly still, hands clenched into fists but unmoving at his sides, eyes fluttering a little whilst waiting for her response. Otherwise still as a sculpture. 

It was the hope and want radiating through his rich brown eyes from under his dark eyelashes that made the decision for her, making her nod slowly in response. 

Why not?

She was thirsty for a good cock for a while, sue her.

What kind of a friend would she be anyway, if she didn’t help her closest friend in need at such a desperate hour?

A bad one. No doubt. 

And this is how she got into the habit of giving little favours to Bellamy Blake. 

Bellamy looked recharged in basically no time _after_ ; a nice flush on his cheeks making his pretty freckles pop more. More importantly, he jumped back into work with a revived energy, easily flashing out his research. Consequently, he managed to submit his draft in time. 

And Clarke? She got to help a friend out and taste his glorious cock in return. 

(The idea of the year, definitely. For both of them.)

*

Somehow, it became a thing.

Soon, her favours were not so one-sided; he took it upon himself to return them. 

Bless his heart.

Clarke didn’t kid herself, though. Bellamy didn’t do relationships. As his once rival turned friend, she is privy to the more intimate and private parts of his life; beyond being there for him when his relationship with his sister turned for the worse. Which means she also knows embarrassingly much about his dating life.

He had his fair share in ‘girl’ friends. 

Often, he had sex with them — there was Roma and there was Harper and there was Bree. Clarke remembers vividly the morning she caught him Roma and Bree since she stormed in on them when Bellamy hadn’t shown, thinking he was sick. (She learned her lesson: text first.) 

She’s known Bellamy for almost two years when he met Gina. Gina was the closest to a girlfriend but they didn't last longer than a few months either. 

Clarke on the other hand ... quite honestly, ever since the Finn-fiasco and her short-lived — and crashed and burned — dalliance with the French exchange student soon after, she hadn’t let herself get too close to anyone. Romantically or otherwise, perfect smokey eye or not. 

Clearly, Bellamy Blake is an exception to that rule; they are friends first and foremost. 

They have a hard-earned understanding.

Despite the added layer to their friendship — now with benefits — they haven’t actually had a good old fashioned penis in vagina sex yet. 

The thought of his cock inside her makes her ... well, makes her want it more. The call of the big unknown. 

_Yeah, sure. Tell yourself that._

It’s like suddenly there's a light at the end of a tunnel. She wants it — and him — so bad. It is useless to deny it.

Clarke has never allowed herself to think about him that way. Not until recently.

It started as a mere sexual attraction to a man. 

After Finn, she had sworn off men for a while, naturally. 

She wasn’t always interested in Bellamy, nor as a friend or partner in sex. She should have known his charm is infectious, and they’ve become friends, eventually.

Naturally, she started noticing more about him. Bellamy may just be the most handsome person she’s ever met. Inside and out. 

He is intelligent. He is caring. 

Bellamy is someone she trusts. Full heartedly. 

He is sexy. So much. 

And once that thought had rooted, she’d been curious what the sex would be like.

Now, it’s a bit more than lust and attraction from her part. 

No. They haven’t actually had sex yet, not in the biblical sense of the word. That’s one of their unspoken rules, technically. Not for lack of wanting, not on her side at least — she wouldn’t be opposed to capital S-E-X if he asked. 

They haven’t exactly specified _what is_ and _what isn’t_ on the table for them. But they have plenty of sex regardless, always involving intimate body parts below the belt. Whenever and wherever. 

They kissed a few times. She kisses him when he spirals too much and she wants to distract him and shut him up. She let him fondle her breasts through and through once, gentle squeezing escalating into something rough; with her top on. But… he has never actually gotten her out of her bra or has seen her bare breasts.

His manners are stupidly on when he is with her like that. 

She wishes he would crack. 

Maybe that’s why she is ‘so (deliberately) cruel’ to him when she pushes herself up on her knees and lifts her hip out of his reach, simultaneously swallowing more of him into her mouth.

Their current sexual encounter started like any other. 

Bellamy has been spiralling for days. It started in small doses. A frown. A grunt. Bottling it up for days before he couldn’t fight it anymore and the words spilled out. On how much the last few tracks of his research are a defining moment for the rest of his life. 

“Maybe, choosing Academia is not for me after all. What could _I_ , Bellamy Blake, offer to this institution anyway? Another book? _Huh?_ ”

Clarke raises an eyebrow in question.

“Tell me.”

“Oh, you’re asking me, Blake?” She asks, innocently pointing to herself with both hands, barely containing her smile.

He stops pacing and stares at her, giving her his best unimpressed look. 

“I thought the question was rhetorical.”

He gapes at her, so seriously which causes her a soft laugh escaping her lips before she can stop it. 

“Some support would be nice, _Clarke_.”

She gives him a small smile, biting on her bottom lip. She moves a tad closer so that she is standing close enough to reach out and take his hands in hers and give him a reassuring squeeze before she lets them drop. 

Okay. She knows how to handle this version of him, THE ONE with unfounded insecurities. 

She knows how to put him in a better mood and pronto.

“Support, huh?” 

She is kind of horny, too, now that she thinks about it. But that’s nothing surprising. Ever since this thing between them started, she feels insatiable when it comes to him.

Step one: She moves a smidgen closer and places a comforting hand on his bicep. 

“I’ll show you plenty of support,” she says, moving her hand seductively up and down his exposed arm, softly scraping the tips of her fingers and nails against his skin. “Plenty,” she accentuates by popping the “P”. 

He has nice arms. One has to be blind to not see that. The touch is a conduit, foreplay of sorts. Skin on skin, raising goosebumps in its way until he realizes by himself what she is actually asking for.

Tick tock.

Time passes slowly this time, it seems.

“If you want me to… that is.”

He blinks a few times at her, half in surprise, half in desire — he gulps. 

And she knows she’s won already.

Now, the question is what to do with him. 

Because no matter how strongly she’s batting her eyelashes, or how hot her skin feels under his gaze that she is practically sizzling smoke and could combust on the spot. None of that matters, if he is still not going to ask her for a fuck. So a girl has to get by by what she can get.

She watches him as he clenches his jaw rhythmically, whilst his eyes turn so impossibly dark that she has to avert her eyes and casting her gaze downwards, anywhere really but away from his burning eyes. He looks so turned on, practically vibrating through his skin, which, in return is turning her on even more. His Adam’s apple bobs, before finally, his voice catches up to him, too. 

“I want you to.”

She clears her throat.

 _Good_. 

“How about... “ she halts mid-sentence, looking around the room. Miraculously, they are in his room. Somewhere between talking about their respective weekend plans and syllabus, they ended up at his place and in his room. Which gives them more privacy and time … but before she can do something stupid like sit down on the bed, her eyes catch on the fluffy throw blankets thrown away at the floor.

“Would it be very bold of me to say that I’m — “she feels herself heat up, from what she’s not too sure. They’ve done this before. Not even once. But the intimacy of the place and what she is about to ask him to do makes her blush. “I’d be happy to choke on your cock if you do put that tongue of yours to some good use for the next -“

“- You want me to eat you out?” 

He asks, giddy like a child, fighting a grin. His eyes are wicked and bright as he looks at her.

And his voice… his voice is deep and rumbling, and so warm that it does dangerous things to her insides. 

Sure, she is already wet; she has been wet ever since he first started grumbling about lack of ' _support'_ so adorably. But this is something else, too. Something more. It feels like a nervous explosion in her belly and she would have to be in some stupid denial tenfold to deny the reason behind it. 

She isn’t. She sees perfectly clear.

She likes Bellamy way too much.

His eyes are boring into hers, patiently waiting for her response. Rooting her to the spot. She awkwardly half shrugs, willing her voice to stay unwavering and calm as she nods and keeps bobbing her head up and down until she verbally reassures him, too, aiming for casual.

“Win-win.”

She has half a mind to act first and push him down to the floor and onto the blankets. 

Not the bed. 

Never the bed.

It’s one of those unspoken rules.

And that’s how they find themselves on the floor, hips and mouths at work.

They didn’t get naked - or half-naked, because of that other unspoken rule of ‘clothes must stay on above the belt’. His pants are fully down, boxer briefs shoved down to his knees, albeit her leggings are discarded, leaving her in a thin sweater and lengthy top underneath; her panties dangling around an ankle. His palms are a warm presence against her hips, fingers softly digging into her baby fat and skin there. His grip determined and encouraging, as she bends her knees back and forth and taking his shaft into her mouth. He licks and teases and licks and grips her hips tighter in response, leaving both of them hot and panting, working up a sweat fairly quickly. 

His mouth feels heavenly on her, and she wants to say as much but she doesn't because he beats her to it.

“Your mouth feels amazing. Always so amazing on my cock, you know - ahh - how to make me lose my mind so easily, _Clarke_ \- “

He loses his voice after that for a while.

It’s her fault, of course. She pushes her pussy into his face with more intent behind it. 

He gives as good as he gets.

Scratch that. 

He is amazing. Extraordinaire.

His fingers are amazing. His tongue and lips are amazing… beyond words.

He licks her up and down, alternating between rapid and strong kitten licks around her nub, teasing the hood. 

She is so lost in the feeling, in moving her lips up and down on him, applying some very deliberate suction as she works him. She swallows him deeper, as much as she can until she has to come up for air. Which shakes her out of her little bubble enough to register she is also on the receiving end of the pleasure he gives her. 

She is practically sitting on his face now. 

When she gets too lost, she doesn’t pay attention, letting his tongue finding his way easily between her pussy lips. Which feels amazing, to say the least, but she doesn't want him having more control over the situation and bury his tongue and face fully into her pussy. Not yet.

She wants to drag this out for both of them. So she retreats. He can still stimulate her with the tip of his tongue and fingers but not close enough to let him feast.

“ _Clarke_ , you’re so cruel to me.”

If that earns her a warning slap on her ass, which makes her yelp before she jumps out of reflex because it stings a little (despite the nice prickling sensation that follows); or him reminding her that she is cruel — be it.

He is cruel, too. 

He runs his mouth and it does things to her. He is making her more wet, which sounds impossible, yet so true.

“I could lap on your juices for hours. You know that?”

She hums, because she agrees. She could — too — do the same and suck on his cock for hours if she weren’t this greedy for him; and secondly, she would want him to try and eat her pussy for so long, until she passed out from what he has given.

“Come now, _Clarke_ , move your pretty pussy closer to me,” he breathes against her thigh, running a wet nose against the heated skin.

“Nah-ah,” she manages to get through a mouth full of cock. 

His grip on her hip tightens and he pulls. Usually, he holds spectacularly well onto whatever sweet torment she has for him. Today — maybe today is the day he breaks and asks for more.

The thought equally excites and terrifies her.

Bellamy and the thought of him inside her — maybe, possibly soon — makes her shiver in anticipation and she lets up a bit on his cock to lap around the head, before swallowing him deeper and pushing her hips to where he wants her. Her intent is to pull back quickly and tease him longer but he clearly has another idea when his grip on the curve of her ass turns stronger and his hands feel like a vice. Keeping her there, and pulling her to him fiercely — biting playfully on her clit before sucking it into his mouth.

It takes her by such a surprise that it causes her to release him fully. His cock is covered in spit all over, shining and so beautiful, a mesmerizing sight on its own, but she wants release so so badly she feels like losing her mind for release and practically begs for it.

“ _Bellamy_ ,” she pants once, then twice. ” _Bellamy_ , _please_.”

The suction on her clit is stronger now and she can feel his full smile against her pussy before he slides his hands to the small of her back and pulls her down onto him more forcefully, immediately pushing his tongue into her. He is slow at first but tongue-fucking her in earnest in a blink of an eye.

“Bellamy. _Bell_ \- uh - wait - let me - ahh - yes - yes there - you’re - ahh - “ she doesn’t have any coherent thought left by the time she feels her orgasm build at light speed and hits her practically out of blue. See, before, a sure way to her orgasm required an added pressure on her clit and she is so used to him moving a thumb right there to fully build her up to it... that it has taken her by complete surprise when his hungry mouth and wickedly targeted nosing made her come. All over his face. Which is a first, too.

“Oh, fuck.” She pants when she comes down somewhat, still in the midst of tiny tremors. 

With his tongue gone, now only lapping around her entrance, she is left clenching around nothing through the aftershocks.

She groans. He laughs.

She smacks his backside with her hand, palm sliding against skin; he feels firm and warm and sweaty.

He is so proud of himself, she can tell.

“Bellamy, _please_. I’m still sort of ... itching _there_. If you could ... “

He chuckles, the warm air that leaves his lungs tingles her pussy when it hits her.

“I think your plan backfired on you, babe,” he says, giving her a cheeky grin. 

No ‘sure thing, Clarke’.

Or ‘my pleasure, Clarke’. 

She is left with his fingers caressing the skin at her hips and small of her back but nowhere near to where she wants them.

“Spectacularly,” she murmurs, disappointed. ” _Please_. Be a good boy and fill me up. Or I swear to God, I’m going to combust here.”

His chuckles stop which, maybe, is irrational, but it worries her.

She angles her head, letting it drop in a way so that she can look at his face and figure out what he is thinking. 

The look on his face is — odd. 

Frozen. 

Contemplative. 

Serious?

For a moment, she thinks he’s gonna get up and leave her there, letting her suffer for her brattiness. For which she could apologize verbally, sure. She is not shy with words when the situation requires and she strains her brain to replay the events in her head if this is a situation like that. 

She comes up with nothing. She decides she apologizes much better presently by getting back to it. She licks his shaft up and down a few times until she reaches and nips around the seeping tip, slowly but surely working it back into her mouth.

Which is his cue to ease her through the lingering ache in her cunt.

And he does, yes, yes, he does without any further prodding and vigorously so, as if he hadn’t fed on a pussy — _her pussy_ — just a few moments ago. 

The ache abates eventually, replaced by something so much more consuming; and as she guides his cock in its full glory hungrily into her mouth, she is, in fact, almost choking herself in her haste, just as she promised. 

Her second orgasm hits her right after he comes in her mouth. It’s messy. Some of it spills.

What a waste.

 _But well_ , she thinks, _there’s always a next time._

*

Later, they are face to face and lying next to each other by the time she feels their breathing has calmed down and back to normal.

His fingers traverse along her hips, drawing caressing patterns into her skin. He kisses her shoulder once like he’s done it before. 

(He’s not. She would remember.) 

It’s a small kiss. She cannot help and think it’s something he would do if they were in a relationship after making love.

“You’re b- … you’re the best, _Clarke_.”

She reaches down to pull her underwear back on. Despite his best efforts, she is sticky everywhere. 

She frowns.

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom and clean up?”

His stupid grin is back in full force and wipes his mouth with the back of his fingers.

“Probably I should, too.”

He hands her a fresh towel, and they clean up silently, working around each other effortlessly as if they’d have done it a million times before. 

“Hey. _Hey_ , thank you. I mean it.”

A beat later, “You could stay, you know.”

She knows. 

And she is tempted.

Can she? 

She wants to.

But if she stays... and he makes them dinner like she knows he would, and all the while avoiding this elephant called Clarke-and-her-feelings in the room... she’d still let herself pretend and this would feel dangerously close to a real relationship. 

What they have is real. Their friendship is real. That’s not the issue. 

“ _Clarke_?” His voice pulls her back from her thoughts. “Where did you just go?” 

She shakes her head and smiles back at him.

“Um, it’s a tempting offer. Very. Give me another minute.”

His eyes are earnest. He holds his hand up, palms out, which is his way of telling her to take her time. A small smile forms on her lips.

“Whatever you need.”

He looks at her so softly, her heart flutters and she melts at the sight. 

Sometimes she thinks his eyes are changing colour and slipping from this rich chocolate brown to deep russet brown or the other way around; at times some dark golden flecks floating in them. It’s the illusion of the lights, she knows; regardless, she could get lost in them for days and let the world around them slow down.

Today, it seems, she is weak. For him.

“Alright. But only because I'm warm and cosy right now. Starving too.” He lets out a proud huff at that, sounding content and happy, knowing damn well he had a huge part in achieving that. 

His smile is unwavering, feels ever-present. He squeezes her shoulders. 

She needs to do something, or say something silly to cut through this irrational, invisible tension in the air tinged with expectations.

A small frown appears between her eyebrows, scrunching her nose, too, before she drops the act, blows out some air she’s been holding and lets herself smile.

It’s an honest smile. 

“Aaand you might need another pep talk, I can tell. Which, I’m happy to give in exchange for some food and hot chocolate with-“

“- I have chili peppers and Scotch.” Then softly, ”or anything… Anything you want.”

It sounds like a dangerous sentiment. 

She can tell he means it.

  
  


... .

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you and thank you for reading!  
> Please leave kudos/comments if you liked it! <3
> 
> .
> 
> I wouldn’t say they actually got together at this point — because it is still them and they obviously have to HAVE THE TALK.  
> There’s always a next time, am I right?  
> #soulmagnets-find-their-way-to-each-other  
> #it-is-law
> 
> .


End file.
